Memoirs of a Political Detainee in Egypt - Part Two

Diaries of a Political Detainee in Egypt. (2)

The vehicle drove for a while before turning onto a desert road with sparse traffic. After more than half an hour, we arrived at a location and passed through a gate. They directed me left, right, up a step, down two steps, until I found myself in front of an office. There, they processed me, searched me, and confiscated my belt, cigarettes, and lighter.

I was taken to a room and seated on a "bursh"—a mat on the floor—while still handcuffed and blindfolded. Before leaving, the guard addressed me sternly:

"From now on, forget your name. You are now 87. When someone calls 87, you answer, 'Yes, Sir.' Got it?".

• "Got it," I replied.

The guard left, and I managed to adjust my blindfold slightly to look around. I found myself in a large room with about ten young men scattered around, all with beards and completely silent. Bearded men? In the same room as me? I pulled the blindfold back down, bewildered. Something was clearly wrong. The very people I might have sought help from seemed to be the ones who had betrayed me.

I called the guard, asking for painkillers from the medicine bag he had. He handed me the medication and a cup of water without lifting the blindfold. After a while, I called him again, asking to use the bathroom. He grabbed me by the arm, and as I peeked from beneath the blindfold, I saw countless people shackled and lying on the ground.

When we reached the bathroom, he refused to remove the handcuffs. I refused to use the toilet under those conditions and returned to my spot. On our way back, we passed an office where someone warned me:

"We’re treating you well because you seem like a respectable man. But when you leave, don’t badmouth us or ruin our reputation".

Back on the "bursh," the sweltering heat felt straight out of hell. I was sweating profusely. The guard returned with a large plate of beans and bread, but who could eat in this stifling heat? I tried to gather my thoughts, to make sense of what was happening, but I was still in utter disbelief until around 10 a.m.

The guard called out, "87!".

"Yes, Sir," I replied.

He took me by the arm and led me up several flights of stairs. By the second floor, my heart was pounding furiously, and by the third, I had to rest on the steps. I was overweight, tipping the scales at over 117 kilograms, and barely moved from home. By the time we reached the sixth floor, I was gasping for air. They ushered me into an air-conditioned office.

I entered, nearly collapsing from exhaustion, sweat pouring off me like a bucket of water. The officer was polite, ordering the guard to let me sit and bringing me a chilled bottle of water, which I drank in one go. He even had a second one brought.

The interrogation began:

"Pay attention. This session will determine your fate: whether you leave for the grave, disappear forever in detention, or go home."

• "Sir, I have nothing to hide. I’ve never lied in my life, I swear."

• "Then why were you protesting in Rabaa?"

• "Me? Never. I’m one of the staunchest opponents of the Muslim Brotherhood and Salafists."

• "Oh, so you must be an atheist, then?"

• "If disliking the Brotherhood and Salafists makes one an atheist, then I despise atheists even more. I’ve never been an atheist".

He seemed to be looking at my Facebook page, saying:

"I see a photo of you kissing the hand of a Christian nun. Did you convert to Christianity?"

• "No, Sir. That was a 100-year-old Greek Catholic nun. In our culture, kissing the hand of an elder is a gesture of respect, not allegiance. Besides, I admire Christians."

• "Ah, so you admit to loving Christianity. When did you convert?"

• "I said I admire Christians, especially Egyptian Christians, not Christianity as a religion."

• "Let’s cut to the chase. Why are you against the state?"

• "I’m not against the state. I love this country deeply. I’m only against Sisi."

• "But Sisi is Egypt!"

This reminded me of a detainee from Kerdasa who had responded, "How can Sisi be Egypt? If Sisi dies, does Egypt die too?"

The officer had confidently replied, "Yes, if Sisi dies, Egypt dies."

I spoke honestly: "I’m not against him at all. I’m not even interested in politics. My opposition is limited to issues like the Tiran and Sanafir islands and the Ethiopia file. These are national concerns, not political ones."

• "Tell me about yourself and your family. Don’t you dare lie, or you’ll disappear forever."

• "I have nothing to hide. I’ve done nothing wrong to fear confessing."

• "No, you must fear me."

• "Why should I, Sir? I’m a law-abiding man."

He thundered, "Because I can bring your women here and do whatever I want to them in front of you!"

Fuming, I retorted, "That’s shameful, Sir. We’re rural folks. If women get involved, it only ends in blood."

He fell silent.

I told him about my family and close relatives. It seemed he genuinely didn’t know me, as he said, "I’ll run a background check. If you’re lying, you’re finished."

Moments later, he left the room, sending me a cup of tea and a cigarette before I was taken back to the van.

I thought I was finally on my way home after they figured out who I really was.